


The Road There

by dawnperhaps



Series: Logic of Hershey Kisses [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnperhaps/pseuds/dawnperhaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The evidence is pretty overwhelming that Dean and Samuel are actually angels.  That doesn’t mean Gabriel can’t continue to hate them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road There

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PEGGY! This was written for my wonderful friend on her 18th!

It doesn’t help that Gabriel is already on edge, still frustrated from his fight with Castiel and still anxious over his thoughts about his older brothers, thoughts he hasn’t let invade his conscious mind in years.  Burying himself in hunting, Twix bars, and coconut cream pie is a fantastic distraction, as is listening to the angry shouting of burning imps, but it doesn’t always do the trick, not when Michael and Lucifer are involved.  He keeps trying anyway, steadily shoveling down the stash of chocolate and candy he has stowed away in the glove box.  It occasionally occurs to him that his metabolism will probably sneak up on him one of these days, especially since he can’t keep hunting forever, but Gabriel rarely finds it in himself to listen to that little voice, not when he’s sitting with a pile of sweets in front of him, delicious and comforting.

“That will be your ninth KitKat bar in the past hour,” Castiel tells him halfway through Nebraska.

“No,” Gabriel argues, drawing out the word.  “It’s more like… my fifth KitKat bar because it starts as one bar you snap down the middle, so-”

He’s interrupted by Castiel reaching over, snatching the partially unwrapped candy out of his hands, and hurling it out the driver’s side window before casually returning his gaze to highway.  Gabriel just sighs, staring down at his empty hands in frustration.

“Is this because I duct taped your mouth shut in Mississippi,” he asks suspiciously.

“No,” Castiel replies, although his narrowed eyes say otherwise.  Admittedly, it did take a while for the younger Novak to get the tape off.  You know, without ripping his face off with it.

“You were snoring.”

“I was awake!”

Gabriel looks confused from a moment before his eyes light up in recollection.  Castiel is silent as his older brother snickers to himself at the corrected memory.

At the next gas station, Castiel sneaks into the glove box and throws out all his Hershey Kisses.  After a brief fight involving some childish yelling and a poorly thrown beer bottle, they both settle back into comfortable silence, Castiel’s Simon and Garfunkel tape playing at a low volume in the background.  Left to his own thoughts once again, Gabriel tries to force himself to overcome his sugar rush and fall into unconsciousness, where his fears and unresolved family issues manifest themselves as physical monsters he can fight and kill.

Just as night is beginning to fall and Gabriel is about to drift off, Castiel suddenly takes a hard left turn, slamming him into the passenger side door.  He yelps when his head cracks against the window and curses loudly, ready to pick another fight.  If he can’t eat candy, he should at least be able to avoid reality and, as much as hates fighting with his little brother on some level, a little bit of duct tape does not warrant all his candy being thrown out _and_ an enormous lump on his head.

However, just as he’s about to call Castiel a few distasteful names, Castiel shoots him a look that is partially apologetic and Gabriel’s annoyance fades when he catches sight of it, immediately recognizing the hard look in his eyes.  A glance out his window tells him that Castiel has just veered off the highway, taking an exit they certainly don’t need, and considering they just stopped at a gas station, Gabriel doubts they’re already in need of gas.

“I think we’re being followed,” Castiel tells him lowly, his eyes flickering up to the rearview mirror.  Gabriel doesn’t like the tightness in his expression and his hands.  His little brother’s knuckles blanche as he grips the steering wheel tighter, his gaze torn between the road and car behind him.

“For how long?” Gabriel asks just as quietly, leaning a little to squint into his passenger side mirror.  There’s a pickup truck behind them, a big dark colored one, driving just far back enough that Gabriel can’t get a good look at the driver.  The lack of streetlights on the road isn’t helping either.  All Gabriel can make out is that the shadowy driver looks to be a man and he’s sitting awfully still, the silhouette completely unmoving as he drives.

“Only twenty minutes,” Castiel admits.  “But every time I switch lanes, he follows.”

“I got it,” Gabriel tells him, slipping out of his seat and sliding into the open back of the van.

“Use a _gun_ , Gabriel,” Castiel hisses at him.

“What’s the point of having firecrackers if we never get to use them?” Gabriel complains, but picks up a shotgun anyway, falling to his knees to shove rock salt loaded shells into the loading port.  A sudden jolt of the entire vehicle sending him falling onto his side, cursing when he sees the significant dent in the backdoors of their van, where he assumes they just got rammed.  He feels Castiel accelerate and take another quick turn, and he barely manages to keep himself upright.

“Warn a guy!” he snaps, quickly picking up the gun again and anchoring himself against the wall.

“He’s possessed,” Castiel informs him, taking another fast turn.  “I can see his eyes.  They’re black.”

“Where are we?” Gabriel asks.

“We’re in the middle of a town,” Castiel says, sounding frustrated.  Gabriel leans back to look out the windshield and, sure enough, the street they’re barreling down in lined with apartment buildings.  Shot gun blasts probably won’t go unnoticed in a residential neighborhood.  The truck collides into the back of their van again and Gabriel decides there isn’t enough time to care.  They’ve had problems with the law before and that was nothing they couldn’t handle.  And Balthazar’s friend can deal with her pixie infestation for one more day if it means saving their lives.

Castiel does his best to lose them, swerving and laying on the gas pedal, but the turns are limited and the roads are dark.  A bullet zings past the side of their vans and another embeds itself in the back doors, meaning the enemy is armed and also trying to kill them, not that Gabriel ever doubted that was the intention.  The road eventually widens and Castiel rolls his window down when they truck pulls up alongside of them, ducking back and letting Gabriel lean over him to return fire with a handgun.

“Shit!” Gabriel curses, when his ammo runs out.  He topples over again when the truck rams into them from the side.  “Can you get in front of them again?”

Castiel accelerates a little more and swerves, knocking into the truck before overtaking it.  Gabriel hears something fall off the van, the uncomfortable sound of metal scrapping across the ground and rattling away behind the car, and he prays it’s the muffler and not something important, like the brake system.  He only knows enough about cars to be able to hot wire one, however, and he’s not even entirely sure a brake system can fall off.  Castiel doesn’t seem more alarmed than he already was, so Gabriel sets about preparing to open the back doors and try to shoot them down.

“How many shots do you think I’ve got?” he asks.  “Did you see how many of them were in there?”

“Just use the bazooka!” Castiel shouts to him.

“You want me to fire a missile in the middle of town?” Gabriel asks incredulously.

“I’m taking us through a field!”

The sudden shift from smooth road to rocky road tells Gabriel that he was being literal.  He looks behind him through the windshield to see the van barreling over what look like old cornstalks.  “You’re taking us through the _actual_ field?”

“I’d be willing to hear your alternative,” Castiel snaps, and Gabriel has to admit that he doesn’t have one.

His eyes flicker over to the enormous weapon Castiel had recommended, trying to decide whether or not he can lift it and operate it with the aid of an adrenaline rush.  It’s a monstrosity and one of Castiel’s favorite toys, polished to a freakish sort of shine.  It doesn’t matter what kind of evil creature they’re fighting; if it’s solid, it’s not going anywhere blasted into a million different pieces.  Castiel’s always been a fan of efficiency.

“You know, kid, someday you are going to have to tell me what you’re compensating for,” Gabriel says, pulling the thing up onto his shoulder and wobbling when the van takes another turns, barely managing to catch onto the ceiling and hold himself up.

“Gabriel!” Castiel growls in frustration.

“I’m opening the back of the van!” Gabriel shouts, cutting off whatever outraged reprimand his little brother had been preparing.  “Keep your head down!”

Before he can reach over and turn the handles, however, they’re hit from behind again.  This time, however, Gabriel hears that metallic sound of the lock breaking and the back doors fly open on their own accord, revealing the enormous black vehicle, thundering away after them, undeterred by the rough terrain.  The sound of a gun going off has Gabriel dropping to the side, narrowly avoiding the shot.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!” Gabriel hisses, anchoring himself just long enough to fire the massive gun he has braced against his shoulder.

He misses – he _always_ misses – but the missile explodes next to the truck, rocking their van and the entire field and throwing dirt and cornstalks away from the blast with surprisingly force.  Luckily, the blast is enough to cause the vehicle to flip over, crashing onto its side and causing the roof of the truck to cave in.  Gabriel watches it roll, feeling prematurely relieved, before he finds himself falling backwards, their own vehicle suddenly crashing to a halt.  He grunts with the force of the impact, but can’t find it in himself to be pissed about one more bruise. 

The field is silent and Gabriel is grateful for that.  He’s normally pretty quick on his feet, but car chases have never been easily manageable for him.  He leans his head back and makes eye contact with Castiel, who is frowning and pulling himself out of the driver’s seat.

“Two of our tires blew,” the younger Novak says, climbing into the back of the van and helping Gabriel to his feet.  They climb out of the back doors together, eying the truck cautiously.  Gabriel puts a hand on his little brother’s shoulder because he looks like he’s close to collapsing.

“That’s pretty good timing,” Gabriel admits, eyes raking over the truck and looking for any signs of movement, but there’s really no way the demon didn’t take off before its human puppet’s spine snapped.  The demon wouldn’t have died, of course, but Gabriel and Castiel could have easier taken him down without his truck as a weapon.  One demon they can handle easily.  It would have been a death sentence to stay.

“I see you missed,” Castiel observes, staring at the giant hole in the ground yards away from them where the missile landed.

“Missed is sort of a relative term, don’t you think?”

“I suppose.”

“So, do we walk or change the tires?” Gabriel asks cheerfully.

“We don’t have any…” Castiel begins, but trails off, his eyes narrowing.

“What?” Gabriel asks, but one glance up answers the question for him.

Through the darkness and the cornstalks, about thirty shadowy figures walk toward them, all with the same strange lifelessness and grace as all the demons they’ve encountered before.  They approach from all directions and Gabriel’s heart sinks because, yes, one demon they can handle and maybe even a few more, but this is an army.  A few of them are wearing smirks, like they know they have them cornered.  Running would be stupid; they’re probably only advancing as slowly as they are because they know the hunters aren’t going anywhere, all their plans used up in evading the black truck and most of their energy with it.  Someone must have put a hit on them, which isn’t surprising considering they’re suddenly players on Heaven’s chessboard, but Gabriel wasn’t expecting any attacks like this.  He wonders if the car chase wasn’t just to lure them to the middle of the field, where their flesh can be stripped from their bones without disturbing the neighbors.

Gabriel clenches his fists as he watches their options disappear.

 “If you hit the gas tank,” Castiel starts, staring at the remains of the truck.  The vehicle didn’t explode and the back end of it is still intact, telling them that the gas tank wasn’t destroyed.

“It would blow the whole field to Hell,” Gabriel finishes, his shoulders sinking as the realization washes over him.

Castiel looks at him sideways.  “Most likely.”

Gabriel takes a deep breath before bringing the weapon to his shoulder and taking aim.

“Cas, get away from the car,” Gabriel orders.

Castiel’s head turns toward him quickly, eyes wide and looking everything like the ten-year old Gabriel once left when he escaped to college, confused and a little scared.

“What?”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that, if this works, the demons aren’t going to be the only ones in the way of the explosion,” Gabriel tells him stonily.  “So start running.”

“No,” Castiel snaps defiantly.  “Give me the gun.  I’ll fire it.  I’m a better shot.”

“Just get away from the car!”

“Gabriel-”

“We don’t have time for this, Cas!” Gabriel snaps.  “You said I was too afraid to confront Michael and Lucifer.  Well, you’re right.  You, on the other hand.  You want to fight that battle.  So this is how this is going to go down.”

“No,” Castiel insists.

“Cas.  Pick a favorite toy.  And get out of here.”

Before they can argue further, the sound of an engine roars through the field and new headlights flash into view, attached to a dark colored sports car that is accelerating at an impossible rate.

“What the-” Gabriel starts, but it becomes clear very quickly that this new car and barreling straight for them incredibly fast.  Castiel barely has time to gasp before the car is only yards in front of them and Gabriel’s last thought is that he won’t have time to push Castiel out of the way before they’re both hit, that he was a shitty older brother once again, that they’re both going to die like this, after everything, in the middle of a field, killed by a bunch of demons who could probably be exorcised in seconds flat.  Moments too late, he starts to pull the bazooka around to aim, but the car is already on top of them and they’ll be taken out either way.

He barely registers the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, but suddenly the scene blurs, the world tilting beneath him, and the blow of the car’s impact or the explosion of a missile never comes.

The next thing he knows, he’s hearing the roar of the ocean.  He’s on his back, the soft surface below his hot and unpleasant on his skin.  When he opens his eyes, the sun blinds him and he has to wonder for a brief moment if he isn’t dead.  Maybe the demons pulled him down to Hell.  It would explain the heat beneath him and the uncomfortable weight on top of him, heavy and… breathing?  He forces himself to open his eyes once more and, after they adjust to the intense sunlight, he can see bright hazel eyes in front of him, staring down at him in shock.

“Sam?” he exclaims, wavering between confused and furious.  As soon as it’s apparent that the danger is gone and there’s just a six and a half foot tall angel on top of him for no reason, it’s easy to make the decision to be furious.

Sam opens and closes his mouth before muttering, “I, uh…”

“Get.  Off me,” Gabriel says irately, his eyes blazing.  He’s intensely aware of his fingers being only inches away from his dagger and considers just stabbing this giant creature in the chest.  He really needs to stab something.  If he really is an angel, it probably wouldn’t kill him, but it might sting a little bit and Gabriel is willing to take what he can get.  But the angel looks genuinely shocked and even embarrassed to have landed directly on top of him and the hunter, much to his frustration, finds he can’t even stay furious long enough to shank him.

“Sorry!” Sam exclaims, scrambling to his feet.  “I, um… I’ve never been great with landings.”

Someone snickers next to them and Gabriel turns to see Dean and Castiel standing next to them, apparently having had a much neater landing.  Castiel stares at Dean in something that looks like awe and Dean, when he notices the stare, looks a little confused, raising an eyebrow Castiel before taking a tentative step away from him.  Castiel, who has at least a smidgeon of social conscientiousness, drops his eyes immediately.  The exchange would be hilarious if Gabriel wasn’t flattened on his back in a pile of sand.  He thinks there’s a seashell digging into his back.

Sam holds out his hand, looking unsure about the gesture, and Gabriel pointedly ignores him, climbing to his feet himself and shaking sand out of all the uncomfortable places he’s suddenly finding it.  Sam drops his hand and looks down at it solemnly, as if it misbehaved.

“You saved us,” Castiel exclaims gratefully, still breathing heavily.  Gabriel is glad he’s thankful because Gabriel can’t find it in himself to be.

“Sure did,” Dean confirms.

“Where are we?” Castiel asks, voice still awed as he takes in their new surroundings.

“Where’s the van?” Gabriel demands, much less impressed.

“We’re in Florida.  And your van is on fire in a cornfield.  Probably,” Dean tells him.

“Stealing cars isn’t exactly a walk in the park, you know,” Gabriel snaps, glaring at a very surprised Sam.  “I had to hot wire that van while the driver was walking up to a house to deliver flowers!”

Castiel looks over at him in horror, probably upset that, not only is he strikingly ungrateful, he’s also confessing their sins to two angels.  But Gabriel is pretty sure that, if they are angels, they probably already know the gritty details of Gabriel and Castiel’s lives.  And, considering they’re now in the middle of Florida, the evidence is pretty overwhelming that Dean and Samuel are actually angels.

That doesn’t mean Gabriel can’t continue to hate them.

“I just saved your life,” Sam argues, looking more confused than anything else.  “Why are you always shouting at me?”

“You two muttonheads seem to be under the very incorrect impression that you can swoop in here and ruin our lives.  So you’ll excuse me if I have a tone,” Gabriel responds.

“We’re sorry!” Castiel interrupts quickly.  “You have to forgive my brother.  He’s damaged.”

“Cas-” Gabriel starts to protest.

“You promised,” Castiel hisses at him.

“We’re sort of on the clock here, so I’ll make this quick and simple,” Dean interrupts, flanking Sam and crossing his arms.  “We need the two of you-”

“Debatable,” Gabriel snaps.

“To go talk to your brothers – who are dicks, by the way – and convince them to not be dicks,” Dean explains, ignoring Sam’s exhausted glare.

Gabriel rolls his eyes, tired of hearing about this inevitable confrontation.  “Yeah, you’ve said that.  Why?”

“We believe they are the keys to ending the war,” Sam says.

“What does that mean?” Gabriel asks irately.

“It means that their destinies are very important and-”

“Oh, shut up, Sam,” Dean interrupts, stepping in front of his surprised looking brother.  “We don’t know what it means.  You never know what the fuck anything means.  Welcome to Heaven, home of ambiguity.”

“Dean,” Sam says warningly.

“No,” Dean snaps, turning on the taller angel and squaring his shoulders.  “We’re not going to get anywhere by lying to them.  We don’t know why, but we do know what, and that’s what we need them to be on board with.”  Dean turns to Gabriel.  “The truth is that it doesn’t really matter why we want you to fix your fucked up little family.  You’re too afraid to do it no matter what the reason is.  And maybe being a coward has gotten you this far in life, but not anymore.  It’s time to grow up and grow a pair because there are bigger issues here than you and your messed up childhood memories.”

Sam’s eyes shift uncomfortably and Castiel sucks in a sharp breath, but everything else seems to slow to a halt.  The only sound Gabriel is truly cognizant of is the sudden pounding of his heart.  Not even Castiel has ever called him a coward to his face before, even though Gabriel is sure he’s thought it.  Either dread or nausea seeps into his stomach and settles there, twisting around like a knife in a very old wound.  Dean continues to stare expectantly, but Gabriel doesn’t know how to respond and save his dignity, although he knows he probably doesn’t deserve to save it.  All the times Michael and Lucifer argued and fought flash through his mind along with all the things he wanted to say.  He remembers silently watching Lucifer pack a bag.  He remembers listening to Michael shout at him to never come back.  He remembers his father leaving for another business trip as if nothing had happened and everything was fine.  But most of all, he remembers doing nothing, sitting on the couch and watching TV, trying to drown out the sounds of the arguing and the throwing of solid objects.  And he remembers leaving.  Mostly, he remembers leaving.

“Fine,” he finds himself saying, his throat tight and his voice hoarse.  Castiel’s hand touches his arm, but he jerks away.

“Fine?” Sam asks, confused.

“Yes.  Fine,” Gabriel repeats, turning away from them and heading away from the ocean towards the boardwalk.  “We’ll come with you.”

“Awesome,” Dean decides, sounding relieved.

“Are you sure?” Sam asks, following after him.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“But you were willing to die back there instead of-”

“I’m confused,” Gabriel snaps, looking sideways to find the taller angel walking beside him.  “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Well, yeah, but I-”

“But what?” Gabriel practically explodes

“I don’t think you’re a coward,” Sam says quietly, and for the first time, Gabriel notices how graceful he is, how serene and calming his voice is.  He stares at Gabriel earnestly, like he really needs him to believe and understand.  “I get it, you know.  What it’s like to have a family at war.”

“I appreciate this attempt at a pep talk,” Gabriel tells him, his voice acidic.  He feels like his soul has been ripped out and trampled on and, quite frankly, he’s not in the mood to discuss anything further.  “But the whole good cop-bad cop routine?  I’ve seen it before.”

Sam sighs in frustration and Gabriel smirks bitterly to himself, happy to have provoked him.  It’s nice to know angels can be provoked.  He’ll have to provoke this Dean asshole more often.

“I took care of the pixies you were after,” Sam mentions after a pause, almost hopefully.

Gabriel frowns.  “How did you know we were after pixies?”

Sam looks uncomfortable, like he realizes he said something too quickly.  “Well, I looked into your friend Balthazar records and found-”

“Do me a favor, kiddo,” Gabriel interrupts, grabbing Sam by the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to his level.  Sam, for all his angelic strength and ability, apparently lets this action go, blinking at Gabriel in surprise.  “And stay out of my personal life.”

“Right.  Personal life,” Sam repeats, almost to himself, and Gabriel stomps ahead of him.

Behind him, Gabriel hears Dean casually announce, “I think he likes you.”

“I think I want to go home,” Sam replies, and Gabriel steels himself against the pathetic tone of the angel’s voice.  It’s not even the thing’s real voice, anyway.  Gabriel definitely doesn’t care about his feelings.  Sam probably doesn’t even have feelings.

“Do you think we’ll get to see Heaven?” Castiel asks, cautiously, like he’s trying to distract Gabriel from his self-hatred.  Gabriel huffs out a quiet laugh

“Not in this lifetime.  Or after.”


End file.
